Storm
by Wynter is Coming
Summary: When a group of gypsies invade the local town, Iris's world is turned upside down when she meets the gypsy King, Ryan McBrennen, who is known for his dangerous and murderous ways. As Iris learns how to love, when that was the last emotion she ever wanted to feel, will she be able to bring peace between the gypsies and the townsfolk?Or will she pay a terrible price for her meddling?
1. Prologue

The shrill, relieving cry of a newborn babe echoed in a tiny, rundown shack that belonged to the young couple within its crumbling walls.

The young man, no older than eighteen, held the bloodied bundle in his arms, salty tears mixed with equally salty perspiration from the stress of watching the love of his life endure such pain. And now he had to watch her struggle to stay awake.

"C'mon Sharon," the Irishman begged his wife, taking her hand in his and squeezing, willing her to live. But, alas, she did not have the strength to give him the hope he desired as she stared at him with blurred vision. A solid minute passed before she had managed to gather the strength to speak.

"Keith, y-ye need to w-watch over our daughter for me," she whispered hoarsely, tears dripping from the corners over her silvery gray eyes, the color dark with sadness.

"No, don't leave me. Us." Keith exclaimed, startling their daughter into a glass shattering scream. His tears began to spill all over again as he realized what his wife had meant.

"Do not abandon her like our families did to us," she rasped, her breath coming out as a wheeze as the air in her lungs began to leave her, leaving her struggling for oxygen.

She died only moments after.

Keith looked down at his daughter, her eyes barely open as she peered up at him, his little flower. That thought alone made him think of Sharon's favorite flower, the Stinking Iris, a dull violet flower with a gray brown middle. He never understood the beauty of the flower until now, when he looked down at his daughter.

"My little Iris," he breathed, smoothing his thumb over her cheek, wiping away blood and gunk. "As long as I live, ye will want for nothin'." 


	2. A New Day Dawning

Iris woke with a start, a warm, but urgent hand lay across her bony shoulder, shaking her. "Wake up, the gypsies have invaded the town!" A familiar voice whispered hoarsely, blue eyes peering into her periwinkle ones.

Keith Calloway. a member of the Towns Guard, and Iris's father, lifted the her to her feet, thrusting a bejeweled dagger into her sleep numbed fingers. "Papa, I-"

"No, just get down to the lake." Her father ordered before dashing off into the fray, not even pausing to check to see if she obeyed his commands.

Before leaving the cabin, she grabbed a dull sage green skirt and a dark brown leather belt, slipping the skirt on, which was to big around her waist, so she fastened it with the belt. She tied her dagger to her waist and ran out the door, only to bowl into Damian, a young blood with a stubborn streak, tussling with a gypsy.

The sheen of steel on steel bedazzled Iris, the sound caused her ears to pound. She turned left and ran along the cobblestone road that she helped create, glancing over her shoulder constantly to see if anyone was following her.

She yelped as her body collided with that of another, causing her to stumble back. Calloused hands circled around her thin wrists, the fear causing blood to pound in her ears, her eyes glided up her captors chest, his white chemise, covered in soot and red splotches she could only identify as blood, was open at the collar and down the center of his chest, exposed chiseled muscle and black, curly hair.  
Further up his body was his face, which was handsome enough, in a rugged way. over the left side of his lips lay a thin scar that curling under his nose and ending somewhere in his right nostril. His eyes the color of the turquoise gem, bright and sharp.

She couldn't move, her eyes wide with fright and shock as the dark gypsy leaned towards her, his breath hot on her face.

Iris cried out as rougher hand dug into her hips and tossed her away, causing her to land on the cobblestones, scraping her arms and elbows, her skirt moving up her leg.

She tossed pale blonde locks over her shoulder and glanced back, shocked to see the dark gypsy grab another, more younger one by the throat. "Do ye have a death wish? The next time I have a woman in my arms, ye leave well enough alone." He ordered, tossing the gypsy away, turning his back and ignoring him. He looked down at Iris, a wave of fear rushed over the blonde maiden, but her joints were frozen, locked under his gaze.

He held out his hand wordlessly, giving an aura of authority, as if she had no choice but to take his hand and allow him to pull her to her bare feet.

Once his grip on her hand loosened, she broke free and ran as fast as her body would allow, not even taking the time to spare a glance behind her, disappearing into the forest.

xXx

Ryan watched the stunning nymph run into the tree, her blonde curls catching on the brambles and branches.

He scoffed as he turned to yell at Carlos, a Spaniard who joined his troop five years earlier and has been a thorn in his side ever sense, but he was gone. Which only left Ryan more angry than before.  
He decided to deal with Carlos later and push the thoughts of the angelic creature far from his brain and focus on the task at hand, find the towns treasure and get out alive.

He ran to the middle of town and looked around, growling angrily hen he realizes that they were losing. He tried to yell out commands to his "soldiers", but it didn't seem to be heard over the commotion.

In the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter f thin, peacock shade fabric, causing him to turn his head, seeing his sister, Colleen, trying to sneak into one of the houses. He groaned in annoyance and stormed over to her, his fists clenched. "Damn you, Colleen." He snapped when he was close enough for her to see and hear him.

Colleen lifted her chin stubbornly and faced him head on, refusing to give her older brother any ground on the issue. "I should be allowed to help! I'm a part of this troop, ye know."

"Aye, I know that fact all too well." Ryan snarled, his upper lip curling unnaturally. "Sometimes I'm tempted to leave ye to the wolves, Colleen. Go home before ye get hurt." He grabbed her wrist and pushed her towards the bridge that marked the end of the land that the town is on.

"But, I-"

"Go, now!" He ordered, refusing to let her disobey.

In the end, she had no choice but to leave, refusing to look back at Ryan as she crossed the bridge.  
He had remained still for so long, he didn't notice anyone sneaking up behind him until he felt the stinging pain of a sword cutting through his shoulder. He turned in a flash, his saber in hand, facing Keith Calloway, the reason his face is scarred.

He let out an inhumane growl and lunged at him with saber in hand, but the Towns Guard blocked and parried with ease, causing Ryan to loose ground. It took less than five minutes to push the King of the gypsies to the bridge, giving him no choice but to retreat.

"I warn ye now, Calloway." Ryan said in the darkest of voices. "One of these days, ye will lose the most precious thing to ye in this world, and ye will be powerless to stop it."

And with that, he let out a holler, calling back his men and running over the bridge, a new plan formulating in his brain.

Oh yes, Calloway would pay for this, in the most painful way possible.

XxX

Iris sighed as she watched her best friend, Sophie Mikhail, go on and on about how "romantic" it was that the gypsy defended her against his troop member. "I mean, he defended ye, Iris. That has to mean he has feelings for ye!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"I doubt those feelings pure, and I know they are not reciprocated." Iris sighed, annoyed but trying her best not to snap at Sophie, the hopeless romantic.

"Yer parents married for love, and you don't have one romantic bone in ye." Sophie huffed, pouting at her, her dainty red curls falling into her face, making her seem like a fiery vixen awaiting her prince in the forest.

"My mother died because of my parents choice, I will never let that happen to me." Iris said in a tone that left no argument.

"Girls? Where are ye?" George Mikhail, Sophie's father, called out somewhere in the forest, he shine on his bald head seen before anything else.

"Papa!" Sophie exclaimed, rushing into her fathers waiting arms, his aged face warm and inviting as he smiles at his second youngest child, but his only daughter. Iris remained near the tree that she had been leaning against sense she found Sophie, rubbing her wrists absent-mindedly.

"Is my father alright?" She asked when she noticed the concerned look George gave her when she didn't run up to the man she saw as a grandfather.

"He's fine. But he worried about you, so my advise would be to hurry up and head back to town." Once he was sure the two girls were following him, he started to tell them about the battle that ravaged the property, but left only minor injuries to the towns people.

Iris didn't pay much attention, watching the sun raise up over the distant mountains. _A new day is dawning, but is the dawn going to be painted with peace? Or blood?_

xXx

Once back at camp, Iris grabbed a basket so she could help gather up the tattered ropes that were kept by the town square for emergencies, her eyes glancing over at the bridge ever so often, as if in hope of catching a glimpse of her waylaid gypsy.

Her father saw her from where he bent over, picking up the occasional piece of silver that the gypsies so clumsily dropped in their haste to escape the townsfolk. He straightened his spine and kept himself from running to his daughter, concern furrowing his brow as he reached her side. "Are ye alright?" he asked softly, placing a warm hand on her shoulder, his voice soft.

"Aye, Papa." She smiles a little, forcing herself to smile at him. "Just a little shaken up from the events that occurred."

He nods in understanding, pulling her into a hug. "I'm gad ye got out unscathed, little flower." He whispered softly, kissing her forehead. He pulled back too soon, and Iris had to bite her tongue to keep from calling him back to her. "Today is goin' to be a busy day, so don't over do it." He said, smiling.

"I won't, Papa." She nods to him, her smile disappearing as she watched her father take the silver pieces to the treasure chest.

She felt smaller hands on her shoulder, and Iris turned to face one of her best friends, Damian Mikhail, the youngest son of the Mikhail clan, and Sophie's older brother. "Do ye need help, Scales?" Damian smirks at his time old nick-name for her, which she earned from when she was skinning a fish, and she realized to late that the scales were stuck to her arm for the better part of the day.

"I'm not helpless, Damo." She laughed softly, placing a hand on her hip and jutting it out in a sassy manner, one she knew her father would never approve of, hence why she did it when she knew he wasn't looking.  
"Oh, ye naughty little vixen." Damian laughed and reached to tickle her overly sensitive abdomen. She squealed and promptly ran to the other side of the town square, hiding behind Sophie, who laughed at the display and leaned over to pick up a piece of fallen wood.

"Yer brother is the spawn of the Devil!" Iris exclaimed as she helped her friend, panting from her sudden dash. "Last I checked, my father is not the Devil." Sophie pretended to chastise her older friend, but found that she fell into a bought of giggles.

Iris rolled her eyes as she looked around, the townsfolk busying themselves with cleaning up the mess the gypsies caused. "I wonder how long it will take for the town to be back to normal," Iris mumbled softly, her pale eyes looking over the scene thoughtfully.

"It will only be normal when the gypsies are gone, and if yer fathers plan is accepted by Papa, than the gypsies will be gone soon." Sophie said softly.

Iris sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. "I still can't believe my father would suggest such a horrid thing to the counsel." She whispers hoarsely, looking back at the bridge, hoping that George said no during the vote later that day.


	3. Outside Looking In

Ryan oversaw the care of his people, for many of them had been severely injured, the King included, and for this he cursed on person for this misfortune.

Calloway.

Thankfully, the day went by faster than normal, allowing his plan to fall into place. He waited in his tent until he counted more than ten stars in the sky, slipping his stiletto into the sheath in his right black boot and stood up, the red scarf bound around his waist lifted and fell with the sudden breeze that whooshed around him.

He snuck out of the camp with no issues, no one questioned him, not even his older friend and healer, Dante, who was watching over the edge of the camp. He offered a confused look, but said nothing as Ryan walked into the forest.

Ryan glanced around before jumping up, grabbing a sturdy branch and pulling himself up. The wound on his shoulder burned and ripped open, fresh blood stained the white bandages that were applied earlier that day, causing him to pause once he was on the branch, pressing his forehead against the rough bark of the oak tree.

Once he gained his bearings, he rose to his feet and, as silently as he possibly could, jumped from limb to limb, the occasional acorn or clump of leaves fell to the ground, but that didn't lessen his stride.  
He paused when he reached the edge of the village, his eyes gravitating to a large, oak chest with iron hinges and a lock. A young boy, no more then seventeen or eighteen, with black hair and a round face lay beside it, obviously supposed to be guarding the chest, but fell asleep. He laughed inwardly, refusing to lose when he was so close to his prize, the very prize he and his men couldn't find the night before.

He slipped down the tree, keeping to the shadows, the only thing that ever showed him love and comfort all those years ago, when it was just him and his sister.

He crawled towards the chest, stiletto in hand as he pauses at the boy, he didn't want to have to kill him, but he would if the boy woke and tried to raise the alarm. He poked his arm with a finger, watching, tense, as the boy lifted his hand, swatting away an invisible enemy and rolled over on his side.

Once certain the boy wouldn't wake up easily, he picked the lock and open the chest, his eyes widening with shock as he peered into the chest.

Diamonds, sapphires, opals, rubies, gold, silver, pewter, silverware, and jewelry all glittered like the sun before him, beckoning him with a seductive grin. But there was something missing, an emerald craved in the shape of a wolf howling to a dragon, his families heirloom of centuries. Calloway had stolen it from him years ago, and he had made it his life's work to steal it back.

With a snarl of disgust, he shut the chest and ran behind the houses, just in time, it would seem. Calloway marched up to the boy, kicking at his feet with a growl. "Get up, damn ye!" He snapped, using a key to check the chest, making sure nothing was gone.

Ryan didn't pause to see what happened next, for something was, indeed, missing. A silver chain with a silver and opal, carved wolf's head, he thought of his sister when he snagged it, the perfect gift.

But he was so caught up in his own thoughts, he was ignorant of anyone around him until he collided with someone, someone much smaller than he. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the small person and twisted his body so he fell on his back, the person on top of him.

XxX

Iris was out on her annual night walks, her blonde hair tied up in a braid that went down her back, catching the moons rays. She was only allowed out because he father was patrolling the streets tonight, and she would always be within shouting distance.

She held a leather bound book in her hands, and charcoal pencil in the other, she was looking for something to sketch, because for the first seven pages, it was filled with the dark gypsy from the fight, the way his eyes sparkled, his lips, the way they curl around his scar, and what she could see of his body beneath his clothing.

She shook her head and turned to the left, walking towards the forest, she was heading down a slanderous path of thinking, for if she began fantasizing about this man, she may fall in love, and thats a dangerous place to be, for that's where someone dies.

While she looked around for something to draw, she noticed something coming straight at her, she turned hr head and let out a surprised yelp, a strong body collided with her soft one, strong arms surrounding her as they fell to the ground, her head ducking, burying into the mans chest.

"Are ye aright, milady?" The mans raspy accent was intoxicating, alluring, and magical. She looked up and gasped, seeing her gypsy holding her to him.

His eyes widened in shock, he recognized her, his grip around her tightening possessively, almost squeezing the air out of her lungs. "Pl-please, let me go." She whispered, scared of her feelings and what this gypsy could do to her.

He watched her, the blue eyes that haunted her narrowed in indecision.

She squeaked as she plopped on her butt to the side of him, watching as he stood up and ran to the bridge, all care gone, he was just trying to escape, but from what? Even he did not know.


	4. When You Are 18Life In The Old Dog Yet

Iris didn't sleep for the rest of the night, her thoughts straying to the feel of the gypsies body against hers, the heat that radiated off of him. And she could never forget those eyes, so blue it was like the sky free of clouds, just after a hearty rain storm.

That morning, more repairs were to be made, and Iris soundlessly got to work, barely paying attention to he surroundings. She was so mindless, in fat, she ran right into Damian. She made a small grunt of a sound and looked up at him apologetically. "Sorry," she whispered, her throat raw from exhaustion.  
Damian smiled reassuringly and placed a hand on her shoulder, the touch was borderline inappropriate, but she didn't mind, it comforted her. "It'll be okay, no one is going to allow the gypsies to get close to the town again."

Iris was about to respond when her father almost magically appeared behind Damian and pushed him away from her. "I thought yer father taught ye better." Keith snapped angrily, glaring at him with almost pure hatred and annoyance.

Damian glared at Keith, the push had sent him sprawling to the ground, scrapping his hands and knees. "I wasn't doin' anything wrong!" He exclaimed, clumsily getting to his feet, almost falling forward once he reached his goal.

"Stay away from my daughter." Keith warned, his voice dark and low, his eyes almost a storm gray.  
Iris glared at her father, moving to stand in front of him, her eyes like a blue flame, hot and angry. "How dare ye? He wasn't doin' anything wrong! If he was, I would have dealt with it on my own." She spat angrily, her fists, which were clenched at her sides, were shaking with the need to hit something, or someone.

Keith, who wasn't expecting an outburst from his daughter, let alone for her to defend the young man, took a startled step back. Nothing really surprised the male blond, but if something did, it had to be serious.

"Iris, I-"

"No! It was wrong of ye to push him like that!" She exclaimed angrily, barely herding in her temper. Keith watched her for a moment, before responding. "Ye're to young to understand." He said softly, but this only worked to further infuriate the girl.

"Ye seem to forget that I'm not a little girl anymore, and that I can take care of myself. Without any help from anyone, including ye." Iris pretended not to notice the hurt in her fathers eyes as she helped Damian to his feet and lead him to the edge of the town, close to the Midnight Well, but Damian stopped them before they entered that clearing.

"Ye didn't have to stand up for me," he said softly, looking down at his bare feet.  
"The hell I didn't, my father pushed you to the ground!" She practically screamed to the heavens, pulling at her curling blonde locks in frustration.

Damian sighed, plopping down on the ground, looking up at her like a lost puppy in the search of a forever home. "Ye're goin' to get in trouble because of me." He whispered.

"What are ye talking about, Damo?" The two teenagers jumped as they looked up at George, eyes wide and startled, like they were caught doing something bad.

Damian got to his feet as he faced his father, bowing his head to him respectfully. "We were- Iris and I were only talkin', Father." He said slowly, biting his lip as he looked at Iris, almost like he was asking he not to tell him what happened.

Iris wouldn't let that happen.

"That's true, we were talkin' about the wrong of my fathers mistreatin' of him." Iris said boldly, lifting her chin stubbornly. Her spine tingled with the feeling of being watched from behind, but she ignored it.  
George's eyes narrowed, almost dangerously. It looked wrong on his gentle and caring face. "What happened?"

Iris and Damian took turns explaining what transpired that morning, and once they had finished, they watched with heart-racing anticipation for George's reaction to Iris's fathers wrong-doing.

George inhaled sharply and motioned wordlessly for them to follow him, which they did, for they didn't have much of a choice.

Once they found Keith, George approached him with shoulders back and head high. "I think someone is in needin' of a remindin' that he is not the boss around here." He stepped in between Neil, a kind sitar player with gypsy blood, and Keith. "And that boss is me."

Keith looked over at Iris and the hurt in his eyes tripled, but he then looked at George with a hint of frustration. "Yer son touch my daughter,"

"Only her shoulder, its not like he tried to have his way with her." George snapped back.  
Damian's cheeks turned bright pink, but the color was nothing compared to the deep red that lay across Iris's face.

As the two older men fought, Iris managed to sneak away, heading away from the town, needing to clear her head of the thoughts that now plagued her.

Damian having his way with her.

The thought disgusted her, Damian was like a brother to her, and she knew for a fact that Damian felt like she was an older sister that he could, sometimes, comfort when she was down. But that didn't stop her imagination from leaping at the chance to disturb her even more than she had been when she thought of the gypsy.

She paused when her thoughts muddled together of her and Damian, and her and the Gypsy. She groaned and sat down at the base of a tree, her skirts bunching up at her knees, showing off toned legs.

"Why the long face, little one?" Iris lifted her head from her hands, her eyes locking into the gaze of the gypsy, on the town's side of the forest. she froze in place and stared at him.

A smirk spread across his face as he bowed to her, his baggy chemise fell with him, exposing more of his chiseled chest. "Forgive my rudeness, I figured after last night, an introduction was in order. I am Ryan McBrennen, King of the Gypsies."

Iris, stunned speechless, let out a startled gasp. He was their king? She could understand the younger gypsies fear that she saw in his eyes now, Ryan was known for being a murderer as well as a thief.  
The Gypsy King's brow rose as he straightened his spine, his eyes intently on hers. "And you, m'dear, are...?"

She licked her bottom lip, struggling to find her voice. I-Iris. Iris Calloway." She whispered, nervous.  
Ryan tensed, his eyes narrowing into a slight glare until he shook his head. "Are ye, perhaps, related to Keith Calloway?" He made the question seem innocent, but she knew that it meant something to him.

"A-aye, sir," she started, "he is my father." She got to her feet, lifting her head up high, staring into his eyes. 'Is that an issue, yer Majesty?"

xXx

'Yer Majesty', the words rolled off of the girls tongue like silk, and Ryan adored silk.

He was conflicted, his head said that she would only do him any good as revenge against her father for the pain he caused him, but his heart, something he was not sure he had, told him that she was precious, something to be protected.

"Not at all, only curious." He stated casually, taking a step close to the beauty. She had large periwinkle eyes, dark with uncertainty, giving them a violet hue. Long, blonde curls that reached below her tiny waist, full lips the shape of Cupid's bow, and soft features.

"Is that so?" She asked, her eyes narrowed. She didn't believe him, and she was silently pushing for him to admit the truth. Ryan bit back a laugh, she was smart. Perhaps to smart.

He walked up to her, so close she had to tilt her head back to look at him, her eyes widening slightly. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, smirking when she felt her shiver at his touch. "Are ye afraid of me?"

She appeared like she was about to answer him when someone hollered for her, causing her to step away from him.

Ryan growled in annoyance and looked at her. "Meet me here, tonight." He paused, biting his lip. "Please."

Iris has to strain to hear his plea, when she heard it, she nodded and ran off, leaving Ryan to his own thoughts.

And dangerous thoughts, they were.


	5. Stand and DeliverThe Highwayman

Iris absent-mindedly picked at her bread, dipping the flaky pieces into the stew that she had almost over-cooked, the meat was tough and the vegetation had a burnt flavor. The only good thing about the stew was its broth, rich with the cooked down meat and herbs she put in.

Her father said nothing to her almost disasterous supper, for he as to far into his own thoughts to pay much mind to what he ate. "Father, what do ye know of the king of the gypsies?" Iris asked after a few minutes of consideration, a frown settled on her ace. "Do ye know of him?"

Her question had pulled Keith out of his head, a stunned look passed over his face. "Beg pardon?" He tilts his head to the side, unsure if he caught her question.

"The King of the Gypsies, do ye know anything about him?" Iris asked again, growing nervous over the cloudy look her father gave her when the words settled in his brain. "Why would ye want to know, Iris?" He asked, suspicious to her motives.

"Oh, its only a curiosity. Sophie mentioned him and I wanted to see if ye knew anything." She answered, for though she lied about Sophie mentioning him, she was curious about what her father knew about the man who captivated her every thought.

Keith sat straighter, his eyes clouding over with thought. "I know his name is Ryan McBrennen, he earned his title by killing those who were in his way, for he was an overly ambitious man. He took no care for anyone in his troop, except perhaps his older sister, but that could be because of some oath he gave to someone else. As much as I don't like the man, I will admit he keeps to his word."  
Iris nodded at her fathers assessment, gnawing on her lip. "Have ye ever met him?" She said the words quietly, almost as if she were afraid to know.

"Only in fights, little flower." He admitted. "In fact, he vowed he would have his revenge on me one day." Keith smirked. "Though, I highly doubt he can keep his word on that. I have bested him in fights every time we met."

Iris stood up and cleaned the table. "Are ye going out tonight?" Keith laughed softly, smiling at his daughter fondly, happily. "Ye are full of questions this evenin', aren't ye? Well, to answer yer question, aye. I am headin' out tonight." He wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and stood up.

Iris gave him an apologetic smile. "One more, then. May I stay the night at the Mikhail's? I'd rather not be alone after the battle with the gypsies." Keith rose a brow at her reasoning. "Are ye afraid they will come back?"

She looked down at the dirtied bowls in her hand. "I don't think the Gypsy King will stop coming back until he gets what he wants."

Even if it was her.

XxX

Unfortunately, Iris didn't have the time to warn Sophie to cover for her as she ran, bare-foot, through the woods. Rocks, twigs, and brambles dug into the delicate soles of her feet, causing shoots of pain up her legs, but she paid no heed as she stumbled into the clearing, panting, doubling over for breath.  
"Ye didn't need to kill yerself to meet me here." Ryan's silken voice sounded amused at Iris's display of exertion.

"If I was dead, I wouldn't be here." She countered, standing to her full height and looking him dead in the eyes, pursing her lips together. "Why did ye want to meet me?" Her voice was hoarse and breathless, her hands, shaky, were placed firmly on her hips, her chest heaving as her lungs sucked in the air greedily.

Ryan said nothing as he circled around Iris, his lips turning upward in an awkward smirk, which Iris found adorable, not threatening as she figured he was wanting it to be.

As he pretended to be a hunter, and her his prey, Iris followed his movements by turning her head, her eyes flitting down to see a the thin, white scar that marred his lips. "How did ye earn that scar?"  
Ryan paused behind her, which did her neck no good, for she heard a small pop as she tried to keep her head in the same position. "That is none of yer concern." He spat bitterly as he walks up behind, turning her head forward and massaging her neck.

She sucked in a breath, his strong fingers, calloused with hard work, tenderly worked away the small ache that was in her neck. She sighed softly and leaned into his touch without thinking, her eyes closing. Somewhere in the back of her head, a voice reminded her that he could snap her neck with almost no issue, but the thought didn't bother her that much.

Ryan grunted after a few minutes, his hands stilling, cupping the back of her head. The sound pried Iris's open, and with her head tilted back, she was looking right up at Ryan's chin., for he was looking ahead, not at her.

She licked her bottom lip and lifted her head from his gentle hold, turning to face him, which earned a hard look from the gypsy, but she ignored it. "Please answer me." She whispered softly, her eyes soft and pleading.

Ryan hated the fact that he found himself wanting to tell her everything, he shouldn't be that weak, but he was, and the guilt he felt almost convinced him to confess his wicked plans, but he, instead, inhaled softly, brushing a finger over her lip. "A better question would be, why are ye here?" He smirked softly, a rushing a anger brushed against his heart as he felt the unnatural curl of his lip, but she didn't see to mind. "I- Well, I don't know, I just wanted too."

Iris frowned at her answer, obviously not pleased with it in the least. Why should she want to meet with a murdering thief of a gypsy? Sophie would claim that she would be in love with him, and that she should beg him to sweep her away. But this wasn't a fairytale, and she could get seriously hurt, or worse.

"Do I intrigue ye that much, little one?" He asked, his voice tender as he bowed his head closer to hers, his eyes hooded with desire.

Iris gasped and backed off, her eyes wide. "Ye are not goin' to touch me!" She exclaimed, her voice high with fright.

Ryan frowned, her change of attitude disappointed him. "Ye let me touch yer neck, which I could have broken, but refuse a kiss? Yer logic is confused." He stated in a low, dangerous voice. Iris lifted her head. "I am not that kind of girl, so ye had just better go." She said shakily, biting her lip as she looked down.

Ryan narrowed his eyes, and instead of retreating, he took long strides to reach her and pulled her into his eyes. He paused, looking deep into Iris's eyes before brushing his lips against hers.

It wasn't demanding, like Iris thought it was going to be. Instead it was gentle, as if showing her he wouldn't hurt her, an arm wound across her waist, pulling her closer, pressing his hard body against her soft.

She closed her eyes, knowing she would hate herself later, and reached her arms up, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Ryan's lips curled into a small smirk, the curl pressed against her lips sent shivers down her body, her toes curling with the sensation.

It was too soon when the kiss ended, but the sound of an approaching horse caught them off-guard and Ryan pulled away, pushing her behind him and drawing his sword, his shoulders tense, his stance prepared. "Stay behind me, lassie." He ordered, his voice hoarse.

Iris was glad to see she was not the only one affected by the kiss, for she was still trying to regain her breath. She paused when she heard a familiar horse knicker softly. She stepped out from behind Ryan and peered out from the treeline. "Its the Highwayman." She whispered softly, turning back to Ryan who gave her a warning glare, but said nothing.

After a moment, he looked out over the treeline, and found he could not hide the shock on his face.

Despite the shadows, and the hat the Highwayman wore, he saw his face clearly as the stranger glanced up at the moon. It was Keith Calloway. He regained his stony composure and looked over at Iris, and he knew that she was aware of her fathers shenanigans.

He smirked, this just kept getting better and better.

XxX

It was after dawn when Iris returned to the town, limping for her feet were sore beyond belief, and she knew that if she looked, she would be bleeding. She had left Ryan not long after her father had rode by, but what took so long is that she had walked to the Midnight Well, a crumbling well that was considered haunted, evil even.

Iris never understood that, of course, she only ever felt peace there, she even felt closer to her mother there.

She glanced up as she saw Sophie run up to her. "I don't know where ye were, or what lie ye told yer father, but ye better fill me in. Ye owe me that much." She warned breathlessly, her green eyes hard with warning.

Iris paled, she had completely forgotten about Sophie. "I promise I will tell ye everything, but I need to sit down first." She stated before trailing off at the end when she saw a woman, in her late twenties, looking around the town, wearing a velvet gown of rich plum and gold.

Sophie turned and sighed a little. "That's Lady Gwenivere O'Frie, she was robbed last night and has been asking about the Highwayman." She paused as she saw the panic in Iris's eyes. "No one will tell her that its yer father." She reassured her softly, squeezing her shoulder.

Iris nodded, rubbing her face. She knew her father was going to be caught one day, but she never expected it to be this soon.


	6. Lagan Love

Iris wandered through the town, all were wary of the Lady O'Frie, and her father must be the most wary because he was no where to be seen, which served to unnerve and relieve the young daughter. Sophie had left Iris only moments ago to assist her father with her drunken brother, Colm, a sailor who had, apparently, seen too much and uses liquor to muddy his memories.

She spotted the head of the Towns Guard, Paul Spotnich, a kind and gentle man with a voice of thunder when he wishes to be heard. She approached him cautiously, for he seemed to be deep in thought. "Deputy Spotnich?" She asked in a soft voice, which served to bring him from his mind.

"Oh, Iris. Ye needn't call me that, Paul will do." He chuckled, a rumbling sound deep in his chest, which soothed her. She smiled and sat on the ground before him, watching as he twirls the engagement band around his finger. That's when she remember he was to marry Sophie.

"Are ye lookin' forward to yer weddin' day?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. Paul frowned at her question, and reluctantly shook his head. "No lass, I am not." He paused, looking at her. "Its not that Sophie is a bad lass, but she is far to whimsical and for for the likes of me..." He trailed off. "And I do not love her."

This came as a shock to Iris. "Ye believe in love?" She gasped, eyes wide. Paul nodded, but said no more, his gray eyes locked on the mountains in the distance.

"One day, I hope, ye will find the love of yer life, Iris." He said, patting her head fondly. "When that day comes, don't let him go. Not even for any duty you may believe you owe to yer father."

Paul stood up and headed over to meet with Emmet, who was waiting for him.

Iris sat there for the longest moment in her life, when she thought of the word 'love', she thought of Ryan, of the forbidden Gypsy King that plagued her every waking thought. She thought of dancing with him in the moonlight, amongst other things.

But it was obvious to her that there was a hatred between him and her father, and that alone put her between a rock and a hard place. She did have a duty to her father, he was the only blood family she had. but, was it possible that she had a duty to her heart as well?

Without giving her brain a chance to tell her no, Iris gather up her skirts and ran to the bridge.

XxX

Ryan leaned against the wagon that was his home, and the home of his sister, Colleen. He watched as his troop prepare for a battle he, himself, wasn't sure he wanted to fight. Thoughts of the blonde angel prevented him from sharpening his sword and running over to kill Calloway.

All because he knew that her heart would be shattered by the act.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his, already, messy black hair, which was in desperate need of a cut, and walked to the bridge, assessing the border they would have to over come to get to the town.

He was shocked to see Iris running up to the edge of the river that separated the town from the camp. She looked frantic, as if she had sprinted the whole way, which was not a normal thing for the blonde beauty.  
She let out a cry of shock as she tripped over a rock, cutting a small gash into her foot as she landed face first in the river, soaking her clothing.

Ryan held back a snort of laughter as he climbed over the bridge and meandered over to her, watching as she hobbled back to shore, sputtering and cursing like a drunken sailor. "Get over here and help me, Ryan!" She ordered, falling back into the water with a splash.

Ryan laughed, a deep belly laugh that rumbled through him like a warm fire. He watched as the anger left Iris's eyes as she smiled a little, reaching out a hand to Ryan with a hopeful expression. "Why are ye here, Iris?" Ryan asked, helping her up, looping his arms around her body and carrying her to the bridge, sitting her down on the edge, kneeling in front of her.

"I want to continue meeting you," she whispered, as if she had to force the words out of her mouth. Ryan's eyes widen in shock, he was surprised that she would even consider seeing him, a lowly gypsy, again. Not that he wasn't pleased with this, but he was surprised.

"What convinced ye?" Ryan whispered, touching her face, eyes narrowed. Was this a trap? Did she tell her father and he was using her to kill him. He continued to look her over with a wary expression, one that kicked her more, defiant side into high gear.

"I listened to my heart, is all. If that proves to be an issue, than I'll go home." She replied briskly, reaching her hands up to his chest, about to attempt to push him away, his periwinkle eyes glittering with a mixture of hurt and disappointment.

With swift movements that only came with practice, he pinned her to the barrier of the bridge with his hips and crushed his lips to hers, his hands coming up to covers hers, which allowed him a chance to realize how small they were against his, despite the radiated heat that seeped from her lithe fingertips.

She let out a soft mewl, the sound surprised, not unwelcoming, which only pushed Ryan to use his tongue to pry her mouth open and take her in a more decent manner than what his fantasies played out for them in his minds eye.

After his lungs ached for fresh air, he pulled his lips away from hers, opening his eyes to look at her face. Flushed a bright pink, her lips swollen and moist from his kisses, her eyes dilated and dark, slightly hooded with desire, though there was a spark of fear in her eyes, a confusion of what she was feeling.

He smirked, his lip curling in the way that made many look at him with pity or disgust, but he felt a swell of adoration for the female as she looked at his lips in star-struck awe.

"Meet me tonight, my fair, Irish flower." He whispered, though he made the words an order, he knew that the choice was hers alone.

She nodded, her tongue coming out from its natural hiding spot to re-moisten her lips. Ryan moaned and kissed her gently, his heart melting the moment she wrapped her arms around his neck and joined in the romantic and dangerous dance they had just began to hear the music for.


	7. Midnight WellShadows Dancing

A small, sharp exhale of air escaped from Iris's pursed lips as the flame on the candle's wick went out, the shadows devouring the room in quick succession. The shuffle of linen and cotton fabrics caused a small breeze like sound to fill the darkened space as she made her way to the door, her heart raced as she slowly pushed it open, the strangled sound of the rusted hinges creaked as she pushed it far enough for her to squeeze her petite body through it, careful to not let the door slam as it closed.

After getting through that, she paused to listen for her father, her sketchbook and charcoal pencil in hand for an easy excuse for her late outing.

No sound emitted from within her home.

With a sigh of relief, she looked to the woods, a breezing swirling around her and picking up strands of her blonde hair, tossing it aorund her face before freeing its hold and letting the golden tresses fall to her shoulders.  
She paused, hr light eyes glancing about the darkened town to make sure no one was near as she broke into a run, heading to the Midnight Well, a place where no one went and the youngling of the town were forbidden to go, and for good reason, the adults claimed.

There was a legend around the well that scared many of the locals, claiming that one day, a young maiden from the town nearby had been out one night to meet a gypsy, seduced into meeting him, and was murdered before being thrown into the well, legend states that she haunts the well at midnight, the time she met with the gypsy, and will exact revenge on every gypsy and scare away young maidens that dare wait for anyone there.

Of course, Iris didn't believe a word of the legend and suggested that Ryan meet her there, its a place she knew no one would be, at least not willingly, and they could have a few moments to themselves.

Ryan hesitated before agreeing, it seemed he had been told the stories as well, and that he wasn't keen on finding out if they were true or not, which puzzled Iris, but not enough to question it for very long.

The moon light acted as her guide as she maneuvered through the woods, trying her best not to cut up her feet on small twigs and rocks, her heart thudding, leaving her chest achy. She was nervous, exhilarated, uncertain if she has chosen the correct path.  
She jumped as he heard the small hooting of an owl above her, bright yellow eyes peered down at her, but in the darkness, that was all she could see.

"I thought I heard something," Iris spun around to face Ryan, half his body drenched in the shadows, the other half facing the moon light, causing his hair to grow A dark shade of silver, his eyes warm and inviting through the pale color.

Iris relaxed ever so slightly, a rush of air escaping her lungs. "I thought ye were Papa for a second there," she whispered, looking over her shoulder nervously. She had never done anything so disobedient or dangerous before, it was thrilling and terrifying.

He chuckled a little, holding out his work hardened hand for her to take. "He isn't here, little flower, so may I have the honor of yer company?"

Iris was taken aback by Ryan's formality, a faint flush rising to her cheeks as her eyes rose to meet his eyes. "Ye may, Sir McBrennen." She took his hand slowly, marveling by the course feeling of the callouses on his hand, as well as the gentle way he pulled her towards him, turning his body to the clearing, where a proud, stone well stood in wait for their rendezvous.

After they settled in the grass, he looked over at her with a gentle glow in his eyes. "Do ye really want to be here? With me?" He asked, sounding nervous, as if the answer was one he was afraid to hear.

"I do," she said in a low tone, looking at her lap, her hands wringing the fingers to stark whiteness. "I just don't know what to do. I've never done anything like this before." She explained when she realized how tense Ryan was as well.

He sighed and leaned towards her, the collar of his chemise falling open, allowing her to look at his defined upper body. She swallowed, hard, a faint blush rising to her chilled cheeks as Ryan swiped his rough thumb over the soft, smooth skin.

"What has you worried?" He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over her cheek as he moved to bury his face into the warm crook of her neck, his heated breath sending shivers down her spine, her head tilting back ad a sigh left her lips. "I'm not worried," she gasped as she felt teeth nip into her flesh. "Not when I am with ye."

A rough sound escaped from his throat as he pressed closer to her body, kissing up the side of her neck, over her jaw, and finally landing on her lips. She inhaled sharply through her nose, quickly wrapping her arms around his shoulders, turning her upper body to face him.  
As the kiss grew heated, their hands moved about, pressing, and pushing, and petting at each-other with slight desperation. Until Ryan pulled back with a jolt, his head tilted to the side as he listened carefully.

"What is it?" Iris deigned to ask after a moments silence, her breath came out in short gasps. He motioned for her to be quiet as he stealthily gained back his height, his shoulders hunched over, head down as he turned to her. "I think we need to end this night, my love. We will meet again soon."

"How will I know?" She gasped, standing up, trying to mimic his posture, which earned her an adoring smile. "I will call for you," he vowed, giving her one last kiss before running off into the woods, leaving Iris breathless and dazed.

XxX

Ryan ran to the stream, the sound of his sister singing, and a males voice ringing in his ear. He thought the well had been farther away from the gypsy camp than this, but he had heard the rise of his sisters seductive voice with ease, even if Iris hadn't. Even know the sound grew louder.

As he skidded to a halt by the stream, he saw a sight he never could have thought would be there. His sister, Colleen, in the arms of his enemy.

Who also just happened to be Iris's father. Keith Calloway.

Resentment boiled in the pit of his stomach. "Colleen!" He snarled, fisting his dagger, keeping it at his hip, though he desperately wanted to thrust it into Keith's heart.

Keith and Colleen jumped from their lovers embrace, Keith stepping in front of Colleen, as if to shield her from her brothers wrath. "Stay on yer side, McBrennan." He warned, glaring at him with those piercing blue/gray eyes that barely matched Iris's. It made it easier to want to kill him in the moment.

Colleen pulled Keith backwards. "Keith, we need to go, now!" She gasped. Ryan leapt over the narrowed stream and charged at Keith, who seemed to see the wisdom in Colleen's actions and words, and turned, grabbing her arm, and running at her side, away from Ryan, who had to stop himself before running into the town , where he had allies, and he had only Iris, and God knows he would never let her be brought into this deadly quarrel.


	8. Harry's Game

Ryan looked up from the carving he was working on, splinters digging into the callouses on his fingers as the knife glided over the wood. His careful gaze scanned the treeline, in hopes to see his sister coming home, but his hopes where constantly dashed every few minutes as realization started to sink in.

When he knew that his sister wasn't coming back, he allowed his thoughts to drift into a pleasent day-dream, Iris's pale hair and stunning eyes flooded his brain, causing a rare smile to grace his rugged features.

Suddenly, a pair of fingers flashed in front of him as a dull snap echoed through his eardrums. "Yer majesty, are ye with us now?" Asked the advisor and elder of the clan, Sharon O'Patricke.

"Ah!" Ryan shook his head slightly, blinking as he focused on the woman who raised him in his teenage years. Sharon chuckled a little and sat next to him, clasping her hands together, looking up at him a serious look. "I know about the towns girl, Ryan." She sad in a low voice, making sure no one could here her.

"I figured ye would, I could never hid much from ye." Ryan said with a weary sigh, looking up at the cloudy sky, knowing that he had never been able to hid anything from the one woman that could ever take the place of his birth mother.

Sharon noticed the closed off look on Ryan's face and grew stern. "Oh no, we are talkin' about this." She warned, pulling on the back of his shirt to force him back into a sitting position. Ryan grunted as his tail bone collided with the log, pain shoot up his back.

"She is of a different life than you, Ryan. She would never fit in here if you asked her too, and it would be wrong to ask her to choose between you and her father." She reprimanded, standing up to face him. "Not only is it unethical, but it could prove to be dangerous for both parties."

"Dangerous?" He snapped, standing up tall, towering over the woman, her frustration boiling over in his body, turning his blood hot with anger. There was nothing dangerous about being with the woman he was falling for, at least not in his mind.

"Yes, dangerous! If her father found out, he would come after you. This would force the girl to choose between her lover and her father, and how unfair to her would that be?"

That caused him to pause, he had no doubt of the disapproval her father would hold if he found out, and it could possibly grow violent, something that he wouldn't mind. But he had never considered how Iris would feel about the situation, or how she would be torn apart from the choice. He never thought that she would possibly choose her father over him.

"Leave me," he ordered in a slow, calm voice. "Leave me to my thoughts."

Sharon opened her mouth to argue, but say the darkness clouding his eyes and thought it best to leave him be.

Ryan straightened his spine, clasping his hands behind his back, opening up his chest to face the bridge, his eyes narrowed as he let his thoughts drift off to his best coarse of action.

XXX

The soft, melodic sound of Iris's hum followed her as she wandered dreamily through the owns square, ignoring Sophie, who had been trying for five minutes to catch her best friends attention, but to no avail. Iris had been acting like this for a couple of days, and it was worrisome to all who knew her well. Sophie gave up as Iris danced about as she headed down the ally way, in between the Inn and the courthouse, on her way home, deciding that is would be pointless to try and drag her friend down from the clouds where her head lay.

Iris sang softly, a song with no coherent words, only sounds that came out in song, her vibrato lilting and gentle as she closed her eyes, paying heed to nothing around her, only the gypsy who had stolen her heart.

"Hey, watch were ye are goin'!" A gruff, harsh accented voice snapped at her moments before two bodies colided into each other. Iris had been so far into her day dreams that it took hew a few moments to realize she had run right into Colm Mikhail.

Iris snapped out of it and took a quick step back. She, along with everyone in the town, knew that Colm was a violent man, even when sober.

"I, ah, I apologize Colm." She stammered, hoping her quick apology was enough to spare her his sharp tongue.

Colm looked down at her from the bridge of his nose, his startling blue eyes are sharp, like a cut of ice, just waiting to make someone bleed. "Watch it, Calloway, wouldn't want to get hurt." He warned in a low tone, his accent harsh and unforgiving.

Iris swallowed as she looked down. "I'm sorry." She muttered, turning to leave, and quickly.

Colm grabbed her arm, firm and unyielding, but no where near enough pressure to harm her. "Also, Miss Calloway, if ye are to continue to meet that gypsy, I would recommend being more discreet." He said softly, not meaning to be cruel, but to simply warn her against making a mistake that could end lives.

Iris's heart grew cold as she realized that she had been caught. "Colm, I know we barely know each other, but I beg of ye, don't tell anyone." She whispered, her breathing hitched in her throat.

"Be careful next time, Calloway. That's all I have to say." He let her go roughly and took a few steps backward. Iris didn't even look back at the man who could ruin her life, instead, she ran home, her blood pounding in her ear, causing a splitting headache.

A throat being cleared broke the silence after Iris had spent a few seconds catching her breath, leaning against the door. She looked up, and knew that she was done for.

XxX

Ryan looked around nervously, his red scarf fisted in his hand. He had found a note, from Iris, in one of the trees by the town telling him to meet her by the well.

"Ryan?" Her soft, lilting voice called out, startling the gypsy out of his worry filled stupor. "My love, are you alright?" He ran to the petite blonde, smiling.

Until he saw her tear streaked face.

He took her face in his hands, stroking away any more tears that dripped from her delicate eyelashes. "Iris, whats wrong, what's happened?" He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, but she made no sound to answer him. "Iris?" He urged after what seemed like forever.

"I can't be with ye." She said slowly, biting back a fresh wave of tears.

Ryan laughed softly, leaning down to kiss her, think she was joking, only to be pushed away. "No, Ryan, stop. I'm being serious." She said in a brave voice.

The gypsy frowned as he attempted to pull her into his arms, confused as to why the change of heart. She looked up at him, her eyes turning cold, the spark of life he so adored disappeared.

As hard as he tried to push her into speaking, the more she remained tight lipped.

At last she spoke, "Ryan, leave. There is nothing for ye here now." Ryan's eyes misted up, but e refused to let her hurtful words bring him down. He straightened up his spine, hid eyes turning as cold as Iris's had become.

"Fine." One word, stated in the bitter tone of loathing, almost broke the young blonde as he turned sharply and walked away.

When she knew he was gone, Iris allowed herself to let the tear fall over her reddened cheeks, her throat tightened as she covered her face, her knees shaking with the effort to stay standing.

The bushed rattled as Keith took a few wary steps towards his daughter, his eyes sad, but his face determined. "Ye did the right thing, Ir-."

"Don't. Ever. Speak. To. Me. Again." She barked, spinning to face him with fierce eyes, the periwinkle turning to a burning ice. "Ye had no right to make me do this." She snarled, his chest heaving with her labored breathing.

"But ye still did it, so therefore, ye had yer doubts." Keith said impatiently, trying to keep his temper down. "Ye didn't believe ye could be with him."

"But I was willin' to try." She snapped, giving him a seething look before running past him.  
"Iris!" He called after her, running after her for a few feet before slowing to a halt, deciding it best to let his daughter think things through on her own.


End file.
